A Twenty Year Plan
by hotchityhotchhotch
Summary: Oneshot. Emily contemplates an important decision she and Hotch made early on. Will he be willing to reconsider as well? COMPLETE.


**In celebration of Emily Prentiss's 30-something-th/st/nd birthday (possibly 40th), a little bit of H/P ooey-gooeyness.  
**

**I just wanted to pop something out before Prentiss's birthday is over for everyone the world around...**

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Emily stared at her wedding photographs. One was enclosed in a pewter frame perched above a settee with swirling arms, ready to greet those who entered their home. This photograph was six years younger than the one two feet away, one of a rosy, naked baby, barely the size of a loaf of bread, lying on his father's sturdy arm. That barely recognizable human form was now seven, and felt like Emily's own, even though she'd barely been with Aaron for two years.

_Aaron_. In this photograph, the favorite of both of them, and one of the few that hadn't been posed, Emily's head was leaning against Aaron's broad chest. She was flashing a perfect smile, looking toward the camera, but not into it, as Aaron's chin rested on top of her head. He was laughing, his eyes squeezed shut. Neither one of them had ever been able to remember what had provoked that laughing fit, but they did remember it had ended in him doubled over on a nearby wooden fence while she tried not to let her laughter turn into tears and ruin her makeup.

She smiled to herself in the empty house, remembering how her hint at wanting a fancy gown, a big ceremony, and an unforgettable reception had been taken quite seriously by Aaron. She got her fairytale wedding, got to enjoy the evening with their best friends and a ton of people she barely remembered, even though she had immediately insisted it wasn't necessary. But once the idea was there, he would hear nothing of her refusals. Such had always been his approach toward her. He never asked for anything from her besides love. Not even respect. Like any married couple, they had had their fights, but never once did Aaron call Emily out on the sometimes childish stunts she pulled to get her way. No, he took all she had to dish.

On this cool afternoon in early autumn, the sun was at its highest spot in the sky, its rays scattering down through the turning leaves to brighten spots on the lawn, illuminating some of the dead patches that a dry summer had brought on.

Aaron would be home any minute if he kept his promise. And the Aaron she knew usually did. Emily clutched her arms around her midsection, wondering exactly how to broach this subject with him.

They had decided not to have children. Right off the bat, Emily had denied wanting any of her own, even though she had for a very long time been open about wanting to be a mother to anyone who would listen, including Aaron. He didn't believe her at first, but she kept up the charade, knowing that if she showed him an inkling of still wanting a baby of their own, he would devote everything he had in him to making it happen. Not that the process of trying wouldn't be fun, but Emily had felt for a couple of years before she married Aaron that that was _all_ it would be—_trying_. All those jokes about time ticking away in for women in their thirties had been funny until she had felt, as if her body had spoken to her directly, that she had been the next victim of the things they called time, a career, singlehood. So she had told him it felt a little too late in life to start, and he had finally bought in.

Her "bum ovaries," as she liked to call them, combined with her suspicion that Aaron didn't want more children—even if they had conceived immediately after getting married, he would be in his sixties by the time the child graduated high school—resigned Emily to the fact that Jack would be her one and only. Even if she hadn't bore him, she loved him as if she had, and he adored her right back, barely remembering anything different, and never caring when he was reminded that he wasn't Emily's flesh and blood. She had always felt his pain as she imagined a biological mother would when he scraped a knuckle or broke a wrist. She laughed softly upon thinking of this. She and Aaron liked to joke that Jack was going for a world record on emergency room visits. Her love for him had eased the pain of her inability to bear her own children, and eventually the desire dwindled. This is not to say that she _didn't_ still want to have Aaron's children, but she finally let her busy and otherwise extremely satisfying life take center stage instead. Dreams of hugging a pregnant belly, of Aaron sitting next to her on the day they became parents together, of chasing the spitting image of the two of them around a playground...they simply dissolved into the background.

"Mommy, is it time for the game yet?" Jack asked as he approached, clad in his orange soccer uniform and shin guards, his cleats strung on a hook by the front door.

"Almost, honey. Daddy'll be home soon."

"Why did he have to go to work on a Saturday but you didn't?" Jack sat down to put on his cleats.

"He wanted to do some extra busy work so he can come to your other game next week," she replied. "Hey, how was your spelling test yesterday?"

"I only got one wrong," Jack reported proudly. "Hey, Daddy's back!" Jack hurried to finish tying his shoes.

When Aaron came in, kisses were delivered all around. He hurried upstairs to change into jeans and a sweatshirt, and twenty minutes later, they were sitting on the sidelines, their chairs placed on the moist turf, right in the sunlight.

"Get a lot done today?" Emily asked, rubbing Aaron's upper back. It felt knotted again. She would have to offer to fix that.

He smiled. "Yeah, actually, I did. I'm glad I went in. Even though I missed you." His kisses were rarely dull, and this one was no exception. It was quick, given their surroundings, but he somehow managed to make it memorable. "Love you."

"And I love you." Coaches' whistles shrieked in the background during the kids' warmup drills. "Can I run something by you? Hypothetically?"

"Sure." He gave her his full attention.

"Where do you see yourself in, say, twenty years?"

He looked thoughtful while he took a sip of coffee. "With you and Jack, who would be...twenty-seven. So also with grandchildren, maybe." He grinned.

"What do you think life would be like at that age had we decided to try for a baby?"

Aaron laughed. "Pretty crazy. Wait, why?" He started, turning in his fold-up chair. "Did you change your mind?"

"What would you say if I did?"

Aaron raised his eyebrows. "I would say...that I would be one very old daddy when that kid graduates high school."

"Does that mean you wouldn't want to try?"

"Honey, if you want babies, you don't have to ask me twice. I'm in this with you for the long haul. Our life together will be amazing whether or not we have children."

She sighed and grabbed onto his arm, rubbing it briskly. "I really need a straight answer from you right now." She pleaded with heavy eyes.

He smiled, kissing her in apology. "If you're telling me you've changed your mind, then I'm thrilled." She was shocked, and apparently she hadn't done a good job of masking this. "What?" he asked, brushing his thumb along just the minute hairs on her cheek.

"I just always kind of figured you didn't want anymore."

"Well, you never gave me the option, did you?" he said, chuckling. "You told me you didn't want to. That was enough for me. I had fallen head over heels in love with you and I just wanted to be with you in any way I could. And I stand by that."

She felt her cheeks warm up despite the nippy breeze. "Seriously?"

"You don't believe that I want children with you, or you don't believe the lengths that I would go to have you?"

"Umm, both."

"Then you're not as smart as I've been giving you credit for all these years." This smart-ass remark earned him a rather pointy elbow to the ribs. He took it, and when he was done with a short outburst of high-pitched, drawn-out laughter, he asked, "So, are you saying you've changed your mind? Do we, uh, _have plans _tonight?" He cupped her nearest knee in his hand and rubbed it subtly.

"Well, we don't have to _have plans_ tonight if you don't want to," she said, staring off into the sea of orange and yellow, looking for Jack.

"I thought I just made it clear that I _do_ want to?"

"_Now_ who's the dumb one?" she said, sighing in mock impatience.

"What?" he asked indignantly.

She took one of his hands and placed it on her tummy. In a valiant effort to keep from smiling, she curled in her lips so a line stretched taut across her face.

His mouth stood agape, the corners of his lips stretching up to form his dimples. "What—_when_?"

"Hard to pinpoint it, but probably that weekend we ran out of condoms and were too lazy to go to the store."

"I forgot all about that weekend," Aaron said in sincere awe.

"Okay, you need to hold off on the senile dementia at least until high school graduation."

He laughed almost uncontrollably, drawing the attention of some nearby spectators, some of whom were parents of Jack's friends on the team and who grinned. "Wow, I can't believe this..." He kissed her, now with no regards to their surroundings. When he stopped, he looked down at Emily's tummy. "Hey, you in there...whoever you are...I hope you get my dimples. Your mommy thinks they're rather cute."

**I didn't want to spoil it, so now here's sexysnake's prompt: "Emily tells Hotch she's pregnant. How does he react?" **

**Please go see your dentist now. I think I might have some new cavities myself. Leave a review before you go though ;) Thanks for reading!**


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